Xanthous
by Mariel Nightstalker
Summary: Draco finds the ideal customer. HET Draco/Luna


**Xanthous **

~000~

_Xanthous: __adj._

_(Social Science / Anthropology & Ethnology) of, relating to, or designating races with yellowish hair and a light complexion; yellow or red-haired._

~000~

Draco didn't enjoy his job, but it was the only one he could get. He wanted to relocate to France and join his mother, and the money for his travel and living expenses had to be raised somehow. Travelling salesmen went out of vogue sometime during the eighties, yet here he was. At least he was sans the loud checkered suit and mustache; for now.

What he sold changed from week to week, sometimes from day to day. Today he was selling pamphlets and textbooks on the emerging field of Magical Metaphysics. Personally he didn't understand the point of separating Muggle and Magical Metaphysics, but the distinction had been made by a much respected but very old (and somewhat dated) intellectual.

It was almost five o'clock and dusk was starting to settle around him. He had one more house and then he could go home for the night. He had big plans to soak his sore feet in a bucket of hot water and Epsom salts. And of course he would feed his cat Sigrid; maybe Sigrid would stick around long enough to him to pet her for once. He'd owned her for a month now but she still hadn't quite warmed up to him.

The house was nearly concealed by the massive climbing plants covering it. There were several types of ivy, wisteria, clematis, and even some roses against one side. It smelled divine and looked like something out of a folk tale. He adjusted his tie and tried to think happy thoughts.

When he rapped at the door it was quickly answered by a red-cheeked, rather slim young woman with very blonde hair; her feet were bare, and her crumpled cotton frock somehow gave the impression that she wore very little under it.

"Hello, Draco; I wasn't expecting you for another half hour."

He blinked, flabbergasted. How did this woman know his name? And how did she know that he was coming by?

"Won't you come in?"

He followed her when she suddenly turned and went down the entry hall and through a door to the left. He closed the front door behind him, noting that it was hand-painted with childlike but charming flowers.

"Um, would you like me to remove my shoes?"

"Only if you want to," came the cheerful response. The woman briefly reappeared with a pot of tea in her hands before disappearing into a different door. He followed her inside and found himself in a crammed room with a sofa in the middle of it, surrounded by stacks of books on every subject imaginable. The only decoration was a cracked canning jar filled with paper flowers made from old front pages of the Quibbler on the mantelpiece.

He sat beside her, smiling nervously with his miniaturized products in his lap.

"How do you take your tea?"

"Plain, thanks, except for slice of lemon if you've got it."

She snapped her fingers and a lemon slice appeared in his mug. She handed it to him with a smile. Like a bolt of lightning he recognized her.

"Luna Lovegood!"

"Yes?" she took a sip of tea and looked up at him from under her eyelashes. Like her hair, they were long and blonde. He couldn't think of anything else to say. He took some tea and then ate a biscuit. She didn't engage him or even look at him as he chewed. She arranged her legs under her and looked out the window at her garden in the light of the setting sun. He watched her look.

When he'd swallowed he went on as though nothing had happened, as though she was a normal customer. He displayed his products. He waxed poetic about the wonders of modern research and development. He coaxed. He wheedled. He did his best to make her feel guilty should any thoughts of not purchasing either of the products be crossing her mind.

She watched him with the cool eye of a scientist observing a rat navigating the twists and turns of a maze. He began to feel a little hot and stuttered a little.

The spiel was not very long, and eventually he ran out of different ways to phrase the same message. His voice died away and silence filled the cozy parlor. It was getting dark now. She reached behind her without losing eye contact with him and switched on a floral-shaded lamp. The light was rose-and-blue colored and made everything look even lovelier and cozier than it had in what was left of the daylight.

"Um…"

"I'll take the lot."

"Pardon?"

"I said I'll take the lot. All of it. How much have you got?"

"On me?" he enlarged his products and began to tally up their combined price. She laid her hand on top of his and stopped him.

"I meant in stock. How much have you got in stock?"

He was flabbergasted. He had been out of the People He Used to Go to School With network for over three years now and had no idea what Luna did for work. Perhaps she was a professor of some kind, or maybe a shop keeper who wanted to carry the books?

"I don't know that number off the top of my head; I'd have to speak to my employer and call you tomorrow."

His tongue felt thick and uncooperative between his teeth. It was something in the quiet hold of her eyes that hypnotized him. He knew he could and should go. He knew that he couldn't afford to get fired for being inappropriate. If he was fired he would be evicted and probably starve to death. He would definitely never move to France or go to University like he wanted to.

And if he sat here staring back at Luna for much longer she might change her mind and decide that she didn't want to buy textbooks and other things about Magical Metaphysics after all.

"I should go-"

"No, don't go. Why don't you stay a while? You can ask your boss in the morning about the books."

She was touching his hand. He noticed that there was a pen stain on the left corner of her lips. She was very beautiful, pen stain and dirty frock and all. He wondered why he'd never noticed that before. He almost forgot that she was Loony Lovegood until she added,

"Us xanthous people ought to try and breed together as much as possible before we start disappearing…like redheads."

Despite the oddity of that statement and its frightening implications of commitment, the future, and children, he stayed. His boss would have fired him for being late the next day, but the news that he'd found someone crazy enough to buy all of their remaining stock in a lump placated him.

He filled out the forms while his boss swam in greedy daydreams, fighting his own daydreams of a completely different nature.

~000~

End Xanthous

I still don't know why I like these two together. I just…do. And yes I know some of you out there have read all of my iterations of them and don't quite approve of everything I've had Luna do, but I can't make everyone happy all the time. And not from lack of trying, either!

Review if you liked it.


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